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Richard Upton Pickman
Norfolk Navy Yard wasn't a primary target during the nuclear bombardments of 2077, which left several hundred Navy personnel running the yard alive after the dust settled. Just over a year later, one of those personnel and a civilian survivor from the city ruins had a child. A child that would grow up to cause merry hell for raider gangs. Growing up, Pickman always had an appreciation for artistry. He would draw, then paint. What few art supplies he could find, he would use to practice his hobby and hone his skills, earning a decent amount of money by age sixteen. The world being as it was, however...that was when he lost both of his parents to a raider assault. Taking what combat skills he had, Pickman danced a bloody swath through the nearest encampment. And then the next one. Somewhere along the way, something in him snapped. His enraged yelling became calm humming, his wild swings becoming graceful. A placidity fell across his psyche, coupled with his discovery that blood, when properly mixed, was a good substitute for paint. One by one, Pickman worked his way through the raider gangs of Norfolk, eventually moving on when they were brought down to a manageable level. From there, he traveled westwards to the region known as Appalachia. By now, it was the year 2104. Arriving in the region, he crossed through empty towns and desolate forests until he reached Flatwoods. Nobody was there to be found, though what he did find was an automated registration terminal for a group called the Responders. He followed this trail of automation, from Flatwoods up to Morgantown. By the time he arrived, however, the airport was burned and demolished. The only reason he was able to continue is because he'd been lucky enough to find the terminal in one of the hangars, one that pointed to AVR Medical in Charleston. Once again, Pickman set off on his journey, following the pre-recorded voices of those long gone. His following the dead culminated in his following the path of the Fire Breather. A knowledge exam at the station, a trip to Charleston for a physical, and then his final. A delve into the Belching Betty mine. This event left Pickman swearing off going into any mines alone ever again, especially since he did more running than gunning. His shotgun near-empty and his knife worn, he made it out. Personality Pickman is...something. Most if not all of the time, he's in a rather placid state of mind. Even when he's upset, he rarely shows it unless it's particularly intense. As a side-effect of this and his disdain for raiders and the lifestyle at large, his resting expression is usually described by many as a sinister smile. Towards raiders, he smiles in their faces as he slits their throats. He isn't mindlessly violent towards them, however every second he's around one he'll be planning how to kill it. Notably, he doesn't even see raiders as human, they're on the same level as radroaches. This extends to the kind of people who follow the lifestyle at large, people who use chems heavily and glorify violence. Despite his disdain for the gore-heavy violence of raiders, Pickman delights in his own style of combat. It's best described as a mixture of professional knife-fighting and dancing, as he twirls away from blades and flicks out his own powder-coated stealth combat knife. Theatrics are a big part of is life, as is the artistry, and that translates to his very actions and personality. Appearance & Outfit Pickman is a rather devilish-looking man, his visage befitting a portrait of a deal with Satan. His light grey eyes are as alert as anyone should be, warm black hair done up in a colonial knot. Befitting his recent past as a lone wanderer, he has a light-ish almost beard growing in, kept carefully trimmed enough to be visible on his face, but short enough to never feel "scratchy". He owns two different outfits, no more. His first, and most cared-for outfit, is a suit. The suit has a brown jacket and pants, with a green flannel vest and a red striped necktie. There's a pocket watch clipped to the vest, and a yellow flower tucked into the pocket of the jacket. This patched suit has been with Pickman since he left Norfolk. Much more recently obtained, though, is his Fire Breather uniform. Rather than the normal helmet, however, Pickman wears a much more antique and worn-down white helmet. The badge on it notes the year of 1882- the year that the Charleston Fire Department was founded. Scratched onto the inner brim is a name, M. Larkin. Category:Characters Category:Responders